Vladimir Donovan

Chapter 1: Maxim and Vladimir

Vladimir spent the best part of his childhood with Maxim – a dragon surprisingly. Not many could say that they met a dragon, let alone that they lived with one. Maxim had a vibrant personality, always succumbing to uncontrollable laughter; his clumsiness was something undesirable as he constantly damaged his surroundings and achieving amusement from the mistakes. This wasn’t due to an innate sense of urgency or nervousness; indeed, Maxim always managed to stay calm and content, which was more than Vladimir could say as he envied those who had parents.

He saw it as a privilege rather than a bother and was thoroughly disturbed by spoilt children as he made his occasional trips into town. Of course, he had to make those trips alone lest Maxim wanted to be persecuted and taken advantage of. That was when he’d most wanted the dragon’s company, clearly not use to the constant swarms of people shoving past him with little regard for the fragile boy; his appearance gave the impression that he was a beggar and beggars weren’t exactly loved by common villagers and town-dwellers.

Town drunks were more favoured than beggars and that was a ridiculous reality Vladimir was forced to come to terms with. Whenever Maxim went off in search of food, Vladimir was instructed to do the same and Vladimir truly had become a beggar as he certainly didn’t have money and was nothing more than a wide-eyed, baffled child who had no recollection of his past when Maxim had found him next to a crumbled building scorched by embers and tarnished by ash.

Vladimir could remember the time vividly, probably thanks to Maxim’s curious expression and steaming nostrils; his scaly, dark-red ‘skin’ had taken Vladimir by surprise and had been frightened by the monster-like being which seemed to look at him with a ravenous look. But he soon learnt that the towering beast was not as blood-thirsty and threatening as he’d initially though; out of fear and first impressions, the first few days in the dragon’s company was comedic in a sense. He was convinced that the dragon was determined to feast on his miniature carcass and that logical but unfounded fear made him keep his distance for those days.

He would stay as far away as within reason; his shoulders would grow stiff over that time as they were locked by the keys of apprehension. He wouldn’t even accept the dragon’s offers – usually offers that enticed him to eat his gathered food. Due to this, Vladimir grew weary with fatigue and felt frost-bitten, his bones threatening to break after being exposed to vigorous shaking. Slowly, Vladimir would warm up to the dragon – his hunger slowly getting the better of him and the dragon’s enticing fires encouraged him to stay closer to the dragon or risk freezing to death.

It was intriguing how Maxim was capable of creating a fire with such short arms; his idea was verging on ingenuity as the dragon grasped an innocent duo of stones and turned them against one another with a series of clashes. It wasn’t long before sparks were produced and a bundle of timber the size of trees, were infested with fiery glows. It was still a while yet before Vladimir spoke with the wiry dragon and Maxim respected the mysterious boy’s space; the boy would often spend time staring at the fire’s stomach, as though the fire was a crystal ball.

Something of the fire reminded him of his past but he couldn’t exactly place his finger on it. Something about the fire itself was entrancing and Vladimir found solace in its destructive flames, which flew back and forth, breaking out into a rhythmic dance with the disobedient wind. Eventually, as day and night passed each other on their daily travels, Vladimir began warming up to Maxim as his foolish belief slowly diminished. If Maxim truly did want to devour him whole, he would’ve done it already.

The two began to converse more frequently and soon, the two practically became friends. Both of them plagued with the miserable concept known as loneliness; both found comfort in each other’s company and wanted it to stay that way. That’s why Vladimir felt compelled to help out in food gathering; he would beg others as though his life depended on it. However, he always returned empty-handed and Maxim, instead of getting angry, merely chuckled and shrugged it off. It was the gesture that counted, right? The two joked around, talked about the world and they travelled together – obviously staying clear of settlements or human life.

Just as Maxim was fun to be around, he could take on a discomforting alter-ego in the form of his tutor. Vladimir, of course, was unaware of what the dragon intended to do and watched in confusion as Maxim demonstrated his wondrous abilities. In an instant, Maxim let loose an astounding beam from his mouth; it was a concentrated cylinder that pounded away on the mountain’s rocky flesh.

When the dragon ceased its attack, Vladimir eagerly watched the rock affected to see the result; he was beyond impressed by Maxim’s special abilities and his childlike traits seem to kick in, amazement grasping his very being. The rock, as surprising as this sounded, eroded and whitish-grey fumes escaped from the impacted rubble. Not only was the rock eroded, the area around it had formed into a gouged circle to compliment the circular column that was sent forth.

Maxim simply stood there, basking in the praise and compliments Vladimir gave; he told him that this was a power held only by his fellow kin and was unique in that sense. Though, there was one exception and Maxim divulged the exception to his close friend. A dragon is allowed one and only one student to benefit from its great power; only one that could share with the majestic creature’s powers. Whether that was true or not was irrelevant to Vladimir; he simply saw it as ‘cool’ and an interesting way to pass time. Vladimir was taught to harness his new-found dragon-slaying abilities and Maxim proved to be a firm but strict tutor.

Chapter 2: The dragon-slayer to be

He would often start lessons with one demonstration and then it was up to Vladimir to replicate the demonstration as best he could; whenever he failed, Maxim would scold him and reproach him which steadily grew on Vladimir’s nerves. He was already frustrated by his own failure and Maxim simply intensified it, irritating him in the process. Maxim may have seemed unforgiving but he was silently joyful about Vladimir’s growth, however slow it would be.

Truth be told, he was growing old and it was now a trend for dragons to adopt students before they died, at least in his opinion. It took a month and a half for Vladimir to finally replicate a handful of Maxim’s techniques with some expertise and another two to learn everything the dragon had to offer. The lessons weren’t systematic, as in one after the other – day after day but rather a nice blend of relaxation and gruelling training.
Maxim had truly become Vladimir’s father as he was a role-model in every sense of the word and he would be the only one to take interest in his life for the many years to come.

At the end of the two months, Vladimir was commended on how far he’d come and praised when he’d demonstrated them each one after another; Vladimir held back the urge to boast as that would just raise a chuckle or two from the already amused dragon. The way he was talking to him though was odd; he was saying stuff about learning to fend for one’s self and that was what awaited him if he ever wished to become a man. When Vladimir asked what he’d meant, the pondering dragon was brought back into reality, back from its deep thoughts.

He simply shrugged off the boy’s questions and changed the subject but Vladimir was evidently suspicious about the dragon’s curious choice of words. Considering the training had finished, the two slowly receded back to their rhythmic routine and once again, he’d go into town to beg for food, knowing full well he’d return empty handed. Only this time, when he’d returned, Maxim was not there. Usually the dragon would arrive before Vladimir did but he concluded that he must’ve taken a bit longer than normal.

Vladimir was content to wait for the dragon, as long as he’d need; he was sure that Maxim would return soon. But Maxim took much longer than expected; hours passed and the weather did too and there still was no sign of Maxim’s familiar face. Hours turned to days and days turned to weeks but Vladimir laid unmoved, depression robbing him of his senses and blind faith still blossoming within him; he still believed Maxim would eventually return. Naive – that’s what Vladimir thought of himself.

Eventually, Vladimir grew sick and tired of waiting and eventually, left the place in an overwhelming anger. He felt distraught and heart-broken, finally coming to terms with the inevitable fact; Maxim had abandoned him for good. His whole world turned upside-down and from then on, spiralled out of control.

Maxim mysteriously disappeared, on a date long since forgotten by Vladimir, and that left a hole in his life. Maxim was the closest thing to a parent for him and without him, he slowly sunk into depression. It felt as though time was painfully going slow and the world simply carried on, oblivious to his agony. Vladimir became a travelling hermit, never staying in one place and he was forced to scrounge around for food, at times even grovelling to those who simply took pity on him. That was what he’d most hated at the time – who were they to judge? They didn’t know his predicament, they didn’t know the circumstances and they certainly didn’t know him.

As he travelled, he rarely ever so any good and at one point, he was convinced that the world was plagued by criminals and thieves – most of them strengthened by magic and abusing their powers. The street-life was rough on Vladimir, the streets themselves unforgiving and the conditions unpleasant. Vladimir still felt an overwhelming bitterness thanks to Maxim; he vowed never to let anyone get that close to him again.

He distanced himself away from others, partly by being forced to as people stayed clear of beggars and mostly by choice as he feared someone else would repeat Maxim’s cruel but sudden action. The street-life taught him several things; firstly, no-one would come to your rescue and that those who didn’t work hard were those that were left in the dust. Secondly, there was no point blaming whatever misfortune came your way – it was simply up to you to suck it up and get on with it.

Lastly, if you weren’t able to defend yourself, you would be vulnerable to being taken advantage of. However, Vladimir was determined to get off the streets eventually and improve his standards of living. His speech craft was superb and was what enabled him to make a living off the beggar’s life; without it, he would’ve perished. People were ‘suckers’ for a puppy-dog expression, especially from a child and it was a trick Vladimir liked to use often.

Through the years, he improved on his techniques little by little until one day, his life changed for good. He was 16-years-old at the time, simply walking through the streets with rag-tag clothing found discarded in a nearby alleyway. The shops he passed by had attracted his attention and briefly, he was not paying attention to his own movement; Vladimir was astonished when something collided straight into his chest with a hefty mass.
It snapped his attention back to his front; Vladimir was annoyed, even furious as he watched his baffled ‘attacker’ sprawling on the ground. The man mumbled his apologies but that wasn’t enough for Vladimir; he hadn’t even registered it on his radar.
Fury had gripped him tightly and he’d checked the man’s escape; the street-life had toughened Vladimir up and somehow, he’d developed muscles and a relatively built frame.

He sent his arm rocketing forward, aiming for the man’s neck and succeeded in clutching it firmly with palm. His claw-like nails dug into the back of his captive’s neck and the man gasped in pain. Vladimir immediately sent him back crashing onto the ground, kneeling so that he could pin him onto the ground. The man grunted and yelled, ordering Vladimir to let him go but it only served to harden his resolve and strengthen his grip. Vladimir could now hear several new footsteps, a sporadic rhythm signalling their approach.

Vladimir could hear voices now and a quick glance above revealed a group of Rune Knights headed towards him. They halted when they saw him but were more interested in the man he was pinning down. They ordered that he release him and he didn’t particularly care for what happened to his ‘prisoner’; he hesitated at first but obeyed willingly in the end. He rose to full height and threw the man in their direction without a moment’s notice.

The knights had been intimidated by his unwarranted action and simply raising their spears had shown that to him. A figure stepped forward from the group and he was evidently their captain; he studied Vladimir with an expert glance. The boy looked little more than an urchin; in comparison, the man seemed stern to Vladimir and certainly looked gruff, facial hair and a scar adding to that impression. It seemed that Vladimir uncanny skills had been taken note of; indeed, it had sparked an interest in the lean, taller captain.

The man, after an extensive talk, had turned out well for Vladimir; the captain’s offer was unexpected and he readily accepted. He was to return tomorrow at their barracks and from there, would be enlisted into their ranks. The pay was good, the conditions considerably better than that of the street’s and it at least placed a roof over Vladimir’s head. But for the time being or should I say ‘night-being’, he slept in a narrow alleyway with several felines that roamed around and trash that decorated the gravel. Vladimir found it difficult to sleep, ecstasy rife in his system but he still remained composed and forced his two quivering eyes shut.

The transition between night and day seemed instantaneous and felt as though it happened in a single heartbeat. Vladimir slowly picked himself up from the ground, tried to spruce up his outfit as best he could and quickly shuffled in the direction of the barracks. Previously, he didn’t know exactly the barracks whereabouts nor did he care about anything that lay within its walls; the captain’s aide was the one who gave him precise co-ordinates, the captain not bothering with such a meaningless task.

Though he did not know it at the time, the captain was arrogant and treated his subordinates like scum that were unworthy of his time, of being in his presence even! A few sharp corners and crossing a few pathways revealed a large building to his front. Four walls encased the building and a flag with a curious insignia hung proudly above it. Two sentries stood alert outside of its gates, which looked at him curiously as he approached.

When he was a few mere steps away, they ordered that he halt; manners would’ve been a blessing at this moment as the sentry on the right quizzed him harshly, being discourteous with his questions. He’d asked what Vladimir’s purpose was and he’d simply replied by saying that it was to see their captain; that their captain requested for him. The sentries looked at each other nervously, indecision rising between the two; Vladimir certainly didn’t look like the type their captain would be interested in.

He looked little more than a common beggar and the same type that they occasionally were forced to deal with on patrol. However, if indeed his story was true and knowing their captain, he would punish them severely for simply making him wait. Just as he was about to send Vladimir back where he came from, the gates opened up behind them and out came the same aide that gave him the directions. Recognition flared up on his face and he’d instantly recognized Vladimir as the man who’d helped them apprehend the fleeing criminal.

The aide barked an order and the two were at ease, lowering their spears to make it apparent. The man gestured for Vladimir to enter through the gates and as he did, the aide momentarily stayed behind. He threatened the two sentries, claiming that they knew exactly what would happen to them if their captain was kept waiting; it was common knowledge within the barracks that their captain hated to wait and it didn’t matter the circumstances, he would impose punishments down onto anyone responsible of such a crime.
The aide’s tone lightened as he turned around and walked with Vladimir into the central building. The warmth of its insides was a pleasant changed to the bone-chilling weathers that plagued the streets.
They passed several rune-knights and when they entered the courtyard, Vladimir could see dozens of rune-knights in small groups of four in no particular order, all across the yard. Eyes turned to Vladimir as he passed and comments were made that were derogatory in nature; some jeered, others kept quiet and some laughed at his attire. The aide paid them no attention but Vladimir was discomforted and struggling to keep back a rising anger.

Once again, they entered a building but only this time, it had fewer rune-knights and more people in suits; people behind desks with mounds of work in front of them. These people had no time to look up and examine Vladimir and at least, he didn’t feel self-conscious in the midst of scrutinising glances. The two men came up to a double-door that combined was much larger than the entrances of other rooms they’d passed. Three knocks and a voice answered - a familiar voice Vladimir noted.

The two stepped into a room which was more spacious than he’d initially expected and underneath them, velvet carpeting was laid out on the lush wooden flooring. The curtains to their left looked lavish and the chandelier that was hung above them gave the room an ornamental feeling in a sense. The room was dimly lighted but it wasn’t so dark that he couldn’t see the person to his front. A figure stood next to the window on the left and Vladimir was surprised how he’d missed him; he instantly recognized him when the man turned around.

It was the same person who was responsible for his travel to this place and the man who had picked him off the street. The captain warmly greeted him and swiftly dismissed the aide; the man asked that he sit opposite his desk. It wasn’t long before Vladimir was asked about his past and everything that had happened up till yesterday.
The man stayed composed throughout Vladimir’s sermon and even at the mention of ‘dragons’ he remained unmoved.

Only after a time, did the man stand up with arms folded back. He slowly paced around and the anticipation was really chipping away at Vladimir; he feared that the man would take back his offer of enlisting him into the ranks and would send him sprawling back into the cold, lonely streets. If that was truly the case, Vladimir wanted it to be over and done with immediately.

The man ceased his pacing and announced his decision; he would stay true to his offer and at that, Vladimir was exultant. However, his new-to-be captain laid down a set of rules; one of which Vladimir would remember like the back of his hand. It was never to keep him waiting, never to speak back to his captain and follow whatever order he gave to a ‘T’. Other than that, the interview was over and he introduced himself as Captain Vexil; though, he said that it was always to be ‘sir’ whenever addressing the older, tougher adult.

Vladimir introduced himself in turn but Captain Vexil wasn’t too enthusiastic about knowing his name. As though tarnishing Vladimir’s introduction, he referred to Vladimir as ‘my subordinate’. Vladimir didn’t care too much as he was still overjoyed about finally escaping the streets; Captain Vexil instructed him to find his aide, who would provide everything Vladimir needed to be an honorary rune-knight.

Other than that, Vladimir was dismissed and with that, he left the room struggling to keep back a grin. The aide was just around the corner, seemingly in wait for Vladimir and he rehearsed what Captain Vexil had told him to do. The aide wasn’t too surprised and with a nod, led him to the equipment room. Vladimir was given his gear and that marked his admission into their ranks; he was now a rune-knight.

Chapter 4: Life as a Knight

Vladimir was shown the ropes by his sergeant, made a few friends as well as enemies, completed several jobs and slowly memorized their routine. One mission however changed Vladimir for keeps and that one is worthy of mention. It was a stormy day, rain pelting down hard on their helmets and it sounded like a thousand pin drops landed on Vladimir’s head. The skies roared their defiance, ferociously sounding in defiance and Vladimir could see a light off in the distance directly underneath a pitch-black cloud.

The sky had taken up an odd colour, a mixture of dark-grey and dark-blue; if it had not been for their uniforms, Vladimir had no doubt that they’d die of frost-bite. The conditions were reminiscent of his days on the streets and whenever he came out in this weather, he would be forced to remember painful memories. The rain was disorienting his vision and it seemed as though the droplets magnified everything at random times. Vladimir wished that he was back in the barracks and so desperately wanted its warmth but he was nowhere near the barracks and in fact in the middle of town. He marched in line, shoulder bumping against a friendly shoulder as he shuffled along the road with fellow rune-knights.

A few knights worked to keep the line in order, punishing others with the shaft of their spear, whenever they strayed or shuffled out of the line. The party moved as one and their grunts were rhythmical; that lasted for a while before the entire group came to a staggering halt, a few seconds after the order was issued. Several of the knights were panting and some lay crouched in the line, hidden from view and praying that their brief rest was not discovered by the tyrannous scouts.

The sergeant explained their mission to them once again, reminding them that a highly-dangerous fugitive was somewhere within the town and it was their job to find him – by any means necessary. The fugitive was said to be an arsonist and a deadly one at that; his wife had tipped the knights off, requesting that he be found and apprehended. According to her, it was for the good of her children.

When that was said and done, the large faction broke off into small groups which headed off in different directions; those groups eventually divided until nearly all of them travelled in either two’s or by themselves. The latter was true for Vladimir, as anyone else would simply slow him down; he knew this town as well as he knew the barracks and he knew all the places that a fugitive could hide. Vladimir moved around in the system of alleyways, navigating his way through a maze of walls, paths and around corners.

The target’s description had been given to all of them so that they could identify them on their own. Just as he was losing hope and about to return the way he came, he caught glimpse of someone running into an alleyway direction opposite him on the far right. Vladimir hesitated for a moment before running after the figure that would’ve surely escaped by now. Though, it didn’t stop him from trying. Vladimir could hear sporadic footsteps that violated the peaceful atmosphere that was otherwise undisturbed.

The rain had let up long since he’d reached this area and Vladimir gave his thanks as any hope of catching this man, presumably the fugitive, would’ve disappeared as quickly as the distant thunder had. Vladimir strained his legs in order to speed up and was now sprinting using the soles of his feet; he wasn’t thinking but rather listening for the general direction of the escaping footsteps. He would’ve zoned into the exact location had his prey not ceased his movement and thus, ending any noises he may’ve created.

Vladimir paused at an intersection between two alleyways; he was unsure which path he would take. He had a choice of either going to his left, right or carrying on this path and praying that he would find any sign of the escapee. He waited for what seemed like a minute and a miraculous decision on his part as he found just the sign he’d needed. Smoke rose up like a pillar off to his far right and that was where he would go – he would take the path on his right.

Vladimir hurried so that he could investigate and no doubt others had seen the smoke, rushing as he was to the curious incident. Though, Vladimir was the first to arrive at the scene of the crime; crime was an understatement though. As he ran forward, he could see an orange glow that beamed onto the walls in front of him. By turning a corner, not only did he figure out where the glow had came from but also the origin of the smoke. A small house was a few steps in front of him and it was lit ablaze.

Crackling sounds came from the burning timber and Vladimir could hear screams of anguish – terror even which came from inside the house. Violent laughter sounded alongside the screams and not long after, a crouching figure rushed out the door with a black cloth surrounding his back.

The figure immediately discarded the cloth and turned around briefly; Vladimir was convinced, simply by first impression, that this man was a victim of the fire and that he’d escaped with his life. However, that thought was crushed with the man’s next few words; he was screaming and yelling to the house, repeating the words “Die” and “Bitch”. From the man’s choice of words, Vladimir instantly realized that this man was the arsonist. Not only that, he realized that this must’ve been his house and the man must’ve been covered in the blood of his family.

The man had no sympathy for his family and he was blood-crazed, shouting vile abuse at the quiet house and for some reason, anger grew the best of Vladimir. Something about the scene infuriated him and he simply hated the sight of it; his arms trembled as a sign of his fury. He lowered his spear, all the way to the ground, and slowly walked over to the laughing arsonist. As the man turned around, he was shocked by the man who seemingly came from nowhere. From his attire, he looked like a rune-knight and laughed when Vladimir forced his back against the wall.

He was encouraging Vladimir to give it his best shot and encouraging him to arrest him, pleased that he’d accomplished his mission. Vladimir eyes were blood-shot and wide-open, his razor-like teeth grated against each other and a fold of the man’s shirt was buried in Vladimir’s closed palms. He held him close enough for the two to see eye-to-eye but the harassment wasn’t enough to ruin the captive’s amused expression. All he said was ‘do it’ and so Vladimir did as it triggered something inside of him.

He could no longer hold back his actions and it was as though his body was in the control of someone else. His transformed arm lunged forward with a claw at its front; at some point, his arm had taken on a scaly nature.

His arm was covered with scales, the same colour as his old-friend Maxim and his whole arm was covered with an assortment of scales and dark-red. The claw gripped the man’s face tightly with an astounding ferocity and the man was helpless, mumbling his distress and incoherent pleas. The arsonist’s pleas went unheard and to his shock, Vladimir sent the claw crashing down, tearing flesh and bone from its original resting place. Once Vladimir dislodged his claw from the victim’s face, he sent it immediately back from the top and even raised his left claw in the one-sided onslaught.

At this point, the man was screaming and writhing in pain and he soon lessened his agony, becoming still in the process. Even as his target had died, Vladimir continued his siege of the dead man’s face until it was nothing more than a bloody mess. Eventually, Vladimir gave up and took a long deserved rest. He was standing over the body now and the fire dared not touch him – in fact, it was staying away from him as if out of fear. His chest slowly rose and receded as he panted; the corpse’s blood had tainted his face and his nails were corrupted with it.

Vladimir was now clutching his face with a quivering hand; slowly, his frowning expression had transformed with a rising grin. He let out a snigger which developed into a guffaw; his eyes were darting all over the place as he broke out into a crazed-chuckle. Several footsteps now sounded behind him and several rune-knights appeared, his sergeant being one of them.

Captain Vexil de-briefed him back at the barracks; his expression was almost that of scrutiny and when he’d explained himself, his captain let out a weary sigh before chuckling. Captain Vexil had reminded him that he was to bring him back by any means necessary; that was the words he had explicitly lamented on to Vladimir’s sergeant and had then been reiterated to the knights. Whether he was dead or alive, it didn’t really matter.

It was unfortunate that there were no survivors from the fire and that everyone within had been slaughtered but that was life; it was irrelevant to their mission. As far as he was concerned, it was a successful mission. Vladimir did not feel as though it was a success; he had killed another human being and for what? It was a selfish act and a sinful one too not to mention that it was uncalled for. What he was most ashamed of was the fact that he wasn’t disturbed too greatly – in fact, he liked this new sensation! It was crazy but maybe he was crazy? This was the beginning of how ruthless he became; it was the start of ‘Ruthless Vlad’ and his ascension in rank.